


Dog Day Afternoon

by stepstostars



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Gen, semi-case fic, usual nine-nine hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:55:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8886439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepstostars/pseuds/stepstostars
Summary: When the Nine-Nine find themselves embroiled in an insidious drug smuggling dog walking ring, it's up to Gina Linetti, Certified Dog Walker™ to come to their rescue.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fenella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenella/gifts).



> Hey fenella! Thank you for the prompt, and I hope you have a great Yuletide! (: I tried for more Gina & Holt bonding, but Gina ended up running away with the story, so I hope that's okay!

The day starts like any other.

Which means, considering the history of the Nine-Nine, some weird shit goes down, a little something like Terry escorting a small crowd of dogs into the precinct.

“Don’t comment,” he immediately orders, trying to keep the leashes straight while the dogs squirm around his legs, trying their best to trip him like the blessed animals they are. “I’ll explain in the morning briefing.”

Gina can see the contortions Jake’s face is going through, and is almost disappointed when his loyalty holds true.

That doesn’t stop Hitchcock, strolling back from the bathroom and free of any orders or semblance of common sense. “Wow, Sergeant,” he says with awe. “You really know how to catch tail.”

One of the dogs takes this time to break free and sniff Terry’s ass, and even if it wasn’t the greatest joke, Gina can’t help laughing just a little.

“Sit down, Hitchcock. You’ve officially been assigned twenty more cases to file.” Terry yanks the leashes, finally properly tying them to his desk and falling into his chair with obvious relief. He glares at the rest of them, daring them to comment.

The only ones that don’t avert his gaze are Amy, who’s fled the room for the bathroom because dog allergies, and Gina, who won’t do the filing anyway. One of the dogs’ strains at his leash to run over to Gina—typical Beta behavior, Gina will have to instruct him properly later—and Terry almost falls over when reigning him in.

Honestly, today’s looking like a great day.

-

Things keep looking up when Terry steps up to the stand in the meeting room practically shedding dog hair onto the floor. He doesn’t get very far in his explanation when he’s interrupted, though.

"A criminal dog-walking ring?" The look on Jake's face is one of pure disappointment. "Will they call anything a crime nowadays? Where's the integrity I once expected of our legal system!"

"It does sound a little—" Amy pulls an unflattering face for her facial structure, "Not to sound demeaning or belittling, Captain, all crimes should be stopped but—" She looks almost contrite as she finally says, "Petty."

Holt cocks his head to the side. "Really? Because this sounds like the gravest of cases." He turns to Terry. "Sergeant, if you would continue?"

"This isn’t your normal dog-walking ring—it’s a ring that specializes in smuggling and selling drugs." Terry shrugs. "They move an estimated 50 kilos a day this way—the dogs are a cover for them to easily move around without being noticed."

“What?" Jake yells, eyes bugging out. "How is that even possible?"

Gina scoffs. “Human ingenuity, of course. We were made to innovate.”

Holt tilts his head to the other side this time. “Innovate a drug smuggling dog walking ring.”

“Of course.” Gina waves a hand. “The epitome of human society, you might even say.”

“Regardless,” Terry interrupts. “Peralta, your enthusiasm earns you this case. Take Boyle as a second.”

Charles perks up, as he always does when it comes to anything to do with Jake, but Jake is aggressively off-put. “You’re just shoving your litter of dogs on me!” He looks out the window at the dogs still leashed to Terry’s desk. “You know I don’t deal well with them, not since—”

“You got foiled by a corgi,” Rosa easily finishes. “A-ha, couldn’t even beat the runt.”

Holt coughs loudly, and Rosa shrugs and crosses her arms across her chest. “Cheddar is a normal size for a Pembroke Welsh Corgi, and unless there are any more questions, you’re all dismissed.”

-

Jake and Charles disappear, with Jake declaring, “To the stake-out machine!” for the next three hours, not that Gina really notices, too busy playing the newest iPhone sensation: Dragon Farm Crush, a dragon raising, farming simulator, three-match game all in one.

She’s not usually into the whole farming vibe, but she’s really digging it right now, stuck on level 220 while grooming her noble Diamond Dragon steed. She’s brainstorming ideas on how she can pass off some of her purchases as office expenses when Jake bursts back through the door.

“It’s so simple,” he tells Charles, gesturing in large, open hand movements. “And yet so tricky.”

“Contradiction,” she throws out.

Jake gives her a flat stare before turning back to Charles. “We know how they pass their drugs around now, but catching their small-time distributors won’t stop them—we need to find out their main stash.”

“What we need,” he says, slowly waving a hand through the air. “Is an inside dog.” He nods decisively. “If we put a tracker on one, we'll be able to see wherever they go and at what times. It's a foolproof plan!"

Charles nods along eagerly. "But how will we know the right people will walk him on the right day, though?"

They share a look, before triumphantly yelling, "An inside man!"

"That's brilliant, Jake," Charles says with his usual disgusting fondness. “This is so much intrigue and insiding that my own insides are curling around in excitement!”

“Keep the bowel movement talk for the bathroom, Charles.” He places his arms akimbo, triumphantly puffing his chest out. “To the K9 department!”

It’s not even fifteen minutes later when they return, almost laughable in their dejection. “It turns out,” Jake announces to the bullpen. “That the police do not own a K9 dog that won’t bark or do something conspicuous when presented with drugs.”

“It’s almost like they didn’t think there’d ever be a drug smuggling dog walking ring.” Charles snaps his fingers. “Such forethought!”

“Well we can’t just take a stray.” Jake taps his chin. “Who do we know with a dog?”

Charles looks contrite when he places a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Well, there’s always—”

“Don’t you dare say his name.”

“He’s just a Corgi, I’m sure he can be trained—”

Jake’s look of anguish is almost too pathetic to Snap. Almost, so it doesn’t stop Gina from taking the photo anyway. But she does decide to spare him a spot on her Instagram.

-

Jake approaches asking Holt with the same poise and grace that he approaches anything—that is, terribly disrespectful and no semblance of sanity in sight.

“It’s my dog,” Holt says, and Gina can hear the abnormal tension and seriousness in his voice. He practices the deep breathing exercises she knows Kevin helpfully suggested (the ones she taught him, like a good life coach), and his tone comes out much calmer, “I should be the one to make the decision.”  
  
Jake smiles at him maniacally, the one he gets when he’s truly desperate—never a good sign. “Well, captain, I would happily accept an option that isn’t an evil criminal mastermind. But you’re the only one with a readily available dog.”

“There are no other available dogs?”

“The universe is conspiring against us, and your villainous Corgi is the only option we have.”

They stare at each other for a few moments before Jake shakes his head and shrugs. “You’ll bring him tomorrow then, right? Thanks.”

-

“All we need now,” Jake tells Charles, “Is a person competent enough to walk dogs.” He laughs. “Who am I kidding, I’ll gladly take this responsibility upon my worthy shoulders!”

Gina immediately perks up. “But Jake,” she says slowly. “Do you have a dog-walking license?”

Jake pauses. “I think those are words, but I have no idea what they mean.”

"Jake,” she says with all of the patience she has within her. “You need a license to walk dogs." And then for good measure. "Duh." She whips out her purse, pulling out her official badge with glee. "Like this."

“Wow, how official,” Charles says, swooping in to take the card from her hands. “This shoddy lamination, the terrible background—it’s truly a piece of art.”

Jake waves a hand. “Okay, whatever, get the badge, bust the bad guys, easy.”

Gina sighs. “Do you have a hundred hours of experience, though?”

“You need a hundred hours of experience before they give you that stupid badge?” Jake slams his hand on his table, immediate regret flitting across his face as he winces. “That’s highway robbery!”

Gina sighs. “It also costs $200 to take the exam.”

Jake’s jaw drops. “That’s highway robbery!” He slams his hand down again, wincing again as he mumbles out, “Gotta stop doing that.”

“Jake, honey,” Gina says. “You already said that.”

He shakes his head. “Who even came up with these stupid requirements?”

Gina rolls her eyes, letting out another impatient sigh. These amateurs. “Dog-walking requires an elite set of skills.” She can’t help adding underneath her breath, “More than what I can say for policework.”

Jake narrows his eyes. “What was that last part?”

“If you need an inside man, I’m your only option.” She smiles sweetly. “So you’re really at my mercy.”

Jake sighs. “No, Gina, we really can’t get civilians involved in cases.” He turns around and spots the Vulture making his weekly swoop into the bullpen and immediately turns right back around. “Nevermind,” he says quickly. “Whatever you need—let me provide you with these things.”

Gina smiles brightly. “Finally, the recognition I deserve.”

-

The day immediately improves the moment Captain Holt walks in with Cheddar in tow, safely ensconced in his arms like the precious bauble he is. Mostly because Cheddar is a sweetheart with a face that compels Gina to take care of him, partly because of the terrified expression on Amy’s face.

“If he’s hurt in any way, I will have your head,” Holt hisses at Jake while Gina eagerly scoops Cheddar into her own arms.

“Oh, young pup,” she says, and it’s probably the only time in the station’s history that those words will be this accurate. Cheddar looks up at her with his adorable puppy-dog eyes. “You have much to learn.”

Jake gulps. “I mean, the one working most closely with him would be Gina, so technically—”

Holt narrows his eyes. “I have full confidence in her capabilities. Again, your head.”

Jake laughs nervously, sinking down into his seat. “Right, of course.”

-

It doesn’t take long to win a place in the dog-walking ring, not with her charming smile and her unparalleled qualifications (“I still don’t get it,” she hears Jake say through her earpiece, “Why do you need a license to walk a dog?”), especially when she’s brought them potential new customers as well. Their office is much less nefarious than expected; Gina is pretty disappointed at the lack of creativity about the whole thing. The wallpaper is one of the stock kinds with a dog holding a bone—how boring.

“I really just wanted a better work-life balance,” she says. “Also to meet new, like-minded people.”

"I've never actually seen a black-level license before," her contact says with awe, "I thought it was a myth."

"Arthur," one of the other guys barks over at him, jerking his head to a back room in the office, "Stop simpering and hire her, we have other business to attend to."

Yes, how incredibly unsuspicious.

"Gina," she hears Jake whisper harshly in her ear. "Get us into that room."

-

Unfortunately, she has to walk some dogs first.

“I don’t get it,” Jake complains through the earpiece. “How is the way you walk them any different than anyone else?”

Gina sighs. “I walk them with poise.”

“I’m sorry, Jake, but she’s right,” she hears Charles add. “There really is something special to the way Gina controls her dogs. She brings a sort of elegance to their bearing.”

And even if Charles is Charles, she can’t help but feel a small glow of warmth in her heart that she gets with every compliment thrown her way—and her heart is always warm, thank you very much.

She spots another walker she'd seen at the office sitting on a bench in the same park and frowns. "That's not good technique." And then she watches her slip a slim package from around her dog's collar to another person, just as they sit down.

"Are they even trying to be subtle?" She asks, more at the world in general for other's failures, but Jake is the only one that answers.

"What?" he asks, "What did you see?"

"They're smuggling drugs, just like we already knew," she says. "I just didn't realize how _bad_ they were at it."

"Well if the police are on the brink of catching you, you can't be a very good smuggler," Charles adds.

Gina sighs, seeing weakness in others is a burden she has learned to bear. "I've already taught Cheddar how to incite a riot, he'll be the distraction for the dogs, you guys can be the distraction for the people."

"A distraction for the dogs?" Jake asks, like the plebeian he is.

She sighs again, how has Jake lived so long without knowing any of this? "Of course, you wouldn't want them to catch us, right?"

-

"Hello, good sir," she hears Jake say through her earpiece, "I've found with my busy and lucrative job that I no longer have the time to walk my dearest Missy." She hears Cheddar bark loudly in protest. "I mean, my dearest _Mister_." Jake laughs awkwardly. "Yes, that."

"Oh, um, here's a signup form with all the payment options listed—"

"Sixty dollars for a twenty minute walk?" Jake squawks, before calming his voice, "Wow, how...affordable. For me and my incredibly lucrative job."

"Smaller dogs get a discount. If you would just fill this—"

"Of course, of course. But first, I want to see how your management walk dogs. I expect a certain level of expertise."

"Uh." She can imagine the confused look on the receptionist's face, but enough eccentrics live in New York that he just carries on. "Sure, let me grab them now for you sir."

As soon as he pulls the scary man from before out (along with a few other men and women) she slips behind the door and hones in on the suspicious, dark office lying behind.

"What am I looking for, Charles?" she asks, rummaging through paperwork like she's always seen officers do on TV.

"A ledger, something they record their drug smuggling on." Which is completely no help, no thanks, Charles. "Maybe a notebook or something?"

She opens a drawer to find a notebook lying innocently in front of her and sighs again. "Well," she says, opening it and yup, there's cocaine written on one of the pages. "That was incredibly easy."

-

She slips out from the door just as smoothly and easily as she slipped in, just in time to watch Jake nod along, grilling the walkers with the questions Gina so helpfully taught him.

"What does the color of the inside of his ear mean? What happens if he drools for eight seconds straight? How many treats can you feed him before he vomits?"

"Cheddar," she yells, "Riot!"

Cheddar lets out a small howl, and suddenly all the dogs in the waiting room are scrabbling at the floor, charging at the windows and the door and the people around them, yanking at their chains and leashes.

She rushes out, grabbing Jake's arm and Cheddar with her as they make their grand escape, a chorus of barking and yipping following them around the corner until they make it safely into the car. 

"What was that?" he asks her, "What just happened?"

Sometimes she forgets what it's like to be a normal mortal, unblessed with her superior instincts and skill, unknowing of the knowledge that accompanies a black-level Dog Walker License. "Sometimes, Jake." She places a hand on his shoulder. "It's better to not know the answer."


End file.
